My cup runneth over. And so here I attempt to acknowledge a few (teaspoon-sized) items of that waterfall of grace (abundant and beautiful, cleansing that keeps on coming, overpowering yet refreshing, by turns deafening and calming, both living and life-giving).
-friendship in faces old and young, proven in service, late night conversations, prayers, impulsive hugs, tall glasses of water, a head leaning against your shoulder
-the sweet repeating death of sleep, punctuated by strange dreams
-sunrise, the dark blue of Hoodoo Mountain silhouetted by a pale yellow promise of day
-french toast and the smell of coffee in the making
-socks on a cool morning
-water from the tap, so hot it burns your skin, so cold your teeth ache
-a laptop back from the shop - virus begone, yay healthy computers!
-my parents' anniversary cards on the coffee table; a life forged by faith shared, hope for the future, and love fiercer than death
-what happens when berries and cream are combined
-air, and that I can breathe in almost full breaths again after straining something Sunday
-falling asleep on the couch listening to my dad read the Bible
-people who overlook offenses, repeatedly
-people who sharpen me with hearty counsel
-people who are 6 years old, perched on the couch with dusty bare feet and piles of books and missing-tooth smiles waiting for me
Domine, gratias ago tibi.